


The Lusterian Perpetuation

by Vulcans_do_not_lie



Series: The Further Adventures Of The Enterprise Crew [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Hurt/Comfort, Mission Fic, Missions Gone Wrong, Original Character(s), Post-Star Trek Beyond, i swear i'll finish this eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24298612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vulcans_do_not_lie/pseuds/Vulcans_do_not_lie
Summary: Spock, Doctor McCoy and Captain Kirk pilot a shuttle down to an unexplored planet to investigate strange signals which block communications and all scanners (original, I know). What begins as a peaceful exploratory mission transforms into a life or death battle against one of the most formidable enemies the Enterprise has ever faced.Rated T for mild swearing and canon-typical violence.previously listed as "Remember Us" but then I realised how pretentious and annoying that sounded so I changed it to something else which may or may not be even more pretentious and annoying.******THIS STORY IS NOT ABANDONED. I'M JUST REALLY BUSY**********
Relationships: James T. Kirk & Leonard "Bones" McCoy, James T. Kirk & Spock, Leonard "Bones" McCoy & Spock, Spock & Nyota Uhura
Series: The Further Adventures Of The Enterprise Crew [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1754194
Comments: 13
Kudos: 12





	1. The beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all!  
> I have no idea what I'm doing with this. I think this is going to end up being 40000+ words, but I've never written anything so long before so we'll see how that holds up.  
> I'm really new to this (i.e never done anything at all like this), so comments, constructive criticism, and feedback are very welcome!  
> I'm imagining this as taking place about 10 months after Beyond. New Enterprise. Also, Jaylah is a super-genius so she was fast-tracked through the Academy and now she's an engineering cadet on the Enterprise-A. (I just wanted an excuse to include her because she's awesome)

“Do not be afraid; our fate  
Cannot be taken from us; it is a gift.”  
― Dante Alighieri, Inferno 

\-------------------------------

"Captain," came Spock's voice from the front of the shuttle, "Our communication with the Enterprise is very weak. There is a very low probability of us being able to contact the ship once we pass through the planet's atmosphere."

"Can we contact them now?" asked Kirk, shooting a glance through the rear panel of the shuttle, through which the Enterprise was now only a pinprick.

"I will attempt to establish a channel." Spock's fingers flew over the control board. An uneven crackle of static filled the cabin.  
"Galileo to Enterprise. Come in Enterprise."   
Uhura's voice, interrupted by bursts of static answered.

"Enter…. to Gal..o. Ca.."

The voice was lost in the static.

"Shuttlecraft Galileo to Enterprise, come in." Spock turned in his seat to face Kirk and McCoy. "The communication has been lost. Curiously, it is not the planet's atmosphere which is causing the disturbance, rather a signal from the planet's surface."

A beeping from the control board drew Spock's attention back to the viewscreen.  
"Captain, our terrain sensors are failing."

Kirk shot an anxious look at McCoy, who only shrugged. " Why? What does that mean?" 

" The same signal that is jamming our communications from the planet is disrupting our sensors. It means that the shuttle will be unable to make a landing guided by the computer."

"You'll have to do it manually?"

Spock nodded.

"Can you do that?"

Kirk thought he detected a hint of indignation in Spock's reply, though his expression was as calm as ever. "Yes, assuming all our short-range sensors continue to function, though the risk of minor damage to the shuttle is increased."

"I assume our other option is to stay in orbit and wait for Scotty to re-establish communication."

"Yes Captain, although we do not know how long that will take, and our fuel is limited."

Kirk stared out the shuttlecraft's small window down at the green and gold planet below them. They were headed down there because of the strange signals emitted by something on the surface, not despite them. Spock had thought it prudent to investigate, and though he had been fairly sure the communication with the ship would be affected, he had not anticipated such widespread sensor interference.   
Once Spock had announced his wish to visit the planet, Kirk jumped at the opportunity to accompany him, for he had not been on a landing party since the Enterprise-A had left Yorktown four months earlier, and he was going stir crazy. McCoy had been less enthusiastic to join the landing party, but he also wouldn't allow Spock to leave without a medical officer on board - although Spock himself maintained that he was fully recovered from the injury he had sustained on Altamid, McCoy took a different stance, and wouldn't give him medical clearance to go unless he was joined by a medical officer. Communication or no, they were expected to rendezvous with the Enterprise in less than 6 hours

"Jim." snapped Bones. "Are we going to go back into orbit? Being the only medical personnel aboard I think I should inform you that crashing is generally detrimental to overall health."

"Okay, Spock - take us into orbit," responded Kirk, ignoring McCoy's sarcastic jabs.

Again, Spock bent over his instruments, a slight frown creasing his forehead. "I cannot, captain."

"What the hell do you mean you can't?" exploded Bones.

"I require data from the sensors that are being jammed to take the shuttle into orbit, something I had failed to take into account."

"Well that's just fantastic," Bones spluttered. "You, of all people to not see this coming!"

He was about to continue what doubtless would have become a tirade of insults directed at Spock's ears and eyebrows, but Kirk held up a hand, and McCoy sat back in his seat, hands crossed.

Kirk frowned. "You're sure we can't contact the Enterprise?"

Spock nodded. "It is no longer a question of the weakness of the signal, but the complete absence of it."

"How long until we have to land?"

"Approximately 3.28 minutes"

McCoy rolled his eyes at the specificity of Spock's answer.

"You're sure you can land the shuttle?"

"Yes, I believe I can calculate a safe trajectory without the assistance of the scanners."

Kirk chewed the inside of his cheek anxiously as Spock's hands flew over the console. Landing a shuttlecraft without scanner input was notoriously difficult, not to mention the planet had near-constant gale-force winds.

Without warning, the shuttlecraft lurched violently. They were all thrown to the floor

"What the hell was that!?" spluttered Bones over the beeping of numerous alarms. Smoke was rising from the console

"An unidentified craft is firing on us," Spock announced. "I suggest you strap yourselves into your seats before we are hit again. Shields holding at eighty percent."

Another blast. Kirk staggered back to his seat and pulled the restraint harness over his shoulders. "You too, Spock! Strap yourself in!"

Spock was still steadily punching commands into the console, his harness half on. 

The shuttle was hit again, this time the lights went out momentarily. A loud roaring sound, caused by the shuttle entering the atmosphere unshielded filled the cabin, adding to the cacophony of noise.

"Captain -"

Another shot cut Spock off. He half rose in his seat, rising to the urgency of the situation. "Captain, we have under a minute until we will collide with the planet's surface. We are no longer on the necessary trajectory for a safe landing."

"Spock! Put on your harness, goddammit!" yelled McCoy. "You'll be killed!"  
In response to this, Spock pulled on the straps but did not fasten them, his attention still focused on piloting the shuttle. "Twenty seconds until impact. Nineteen..." he said, and the urgency in his voice sent a chill down Kirk's spine. If Spock was worried, there was generally something to be worried about. 

"Ten...nine….eight"  
Kirk closed his eyes and braced himself. 

\------------


	2. The Beginning, part two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How long is forever? Sometimes just one second.”
> 
> Lewis Carrol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go, Trekkies!  
> I figured out the stardate for this. Beyond is around February 2263, so this is around January 2264 (that's reboot stardate 2264.1)  
> that's assuming it took around 6 months for the Enterprise-A to be completed, and that the entire events of Beyond took place over about a month. (from the failed Teenaxi diplomatic mission to Kirk's late birthday party.)  
> I just started reading the 'autobiography' of JL Picard. It's not bad. I've also got Kirk's so that'll be interesting. There's a section in the middle with terribly photoshopped images of Picard with hair. It's unsettling.  
> Also, side note - I was reading Memory Alpha and the page of Mr. Hendorff (AKA Cupcake) says they filmed a death scene for him in ID and it got cut (he was stabbed with a bat'leth) and then they filmed ANOTHER death scene for him in Beyond when he gets killed by Krall and that got cut too. He's the only named security officer to be in all 3 films. (He's seen briefly behind Keenser in the scene when they're being marched into Krall's base camp.)  
> I also read a comic book from his perspective about how even though they get killed off all the time Cupcake's proud to be a Redshirt. I think that's cool. (if you want to read the comic I think it's in the IDW run of Star Trek or possibly Boldly Go.)  
> LLAP!!

“Re-establish communication.” Sulu’s voice sounded far calmer than he felt. He was more used to the captain’s chair of late, but he still felt like he was pretending to be someone he wasn’t.

“I’m trying, sir.” Uhura was less accomplished at masking her emotion, although only someone who knew her well would notice the slight tremor in her hands as she quickly and methodically followed Sulu’s orders.

“I can’t, sir.” The tremor of uncertainty in her voice transitioned into outright confusion.

“Why not?”

“The signals from the planet’s surface are blocking all outgoing communications to the shuttle. Before it was just a matter of the communication being weak. Now it’s totally blocked.”

“Do we still have their coordinates?”  
Uhura punched in a command.

“No.”

Sulu felt a weight drop in the pit of his stomach. “Send a subspace relay to Starfleet command, advising them of our situation.”  
He slumped back in the captain’s chair.  
An idea struck him. “Call Mr. Scott to the bridge.”

\----------------------

McCoy awoke with a start. He lay back in his chair for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He coughed, suddenly aware that the small cabin was filled with smoke. He struggled out of his twisted harness and took stock of the situation, immediately ascertaining that he had not been injured himself.  
He could see Spock at the front of the shuttle, getting to his feet. McCoy had started towards him when his eyes fell upon Kirk’s prostrate figure, lying on the floor of the shuttle. A side panel had become detached upon impact, and it had flown into the back of Kirk’s chair, breaking the supports and causing the chair to which the captain was strapped to be crushed against the wall. McCoy was at his side in an instant, taking stock of the situation. Spock joined him a moment later. 

“Are his injuries serious?” asked Spock, and although his voice was level and calm, McCoy detected an undercurrent of concern for his friend.

“I can’t tell. Get the medical tricorder from the first aid unit.”

Spock moved off, and McCoy continued to try to assess Kirk’s condition. The smoke filling the cabin was thick, and he could only see outlines. It burned his eyes and scratched at this throat, making him cough painfully. He was reluctant to move the captain, in case he had suffered an injury to the neck or spine, but there were little other choices. Spock returned with the medical kit and placed it on the ground by McCoy’s knees. 

“We’re going to have to get him outside. Help me lift him.”

Together they carried Kirk’s limp form to the shuttlecraft’s doors. Spock attempted to open them, but the shuttle had lost power. He pulled at the emergency lever that manually opened the doors, and McCoy noted with some concern that Spock seemed to have much more difficulty in opening the door than he normally would. The doors flew apart with a bang, and Spock fell back against the wall, visibly trembling. McCoy mentally kicked himself for not assessing Spock earlier. He had assumed that Spock had not suffered any significant injury from the crash since he had not voiced any concerns, but then again Spock hardly ever admitted to being in any pain, always insisting that his ‘superior Vulcan biology’ would assist in healing any injuries better than any of McCoy’s treatments.  
For now, though, Jim was the immediate problem. With some difficulty, Kirk was lifted out of the shuttle and laid on the mossy ground. They appeared to have landed in some sort of forest, with densely packed, tall trees obscuring McCoy’s view of the horizon. There was a gash of reddish soil cut through the earth, showing where the shuttle had torn through the ground, extending for a good eighty meters behind them. The ground was covered in damp, soft moss, and here and there bright yellow flowers punctuated the monotony of the trees, which were an odd shade of blue that most certainly was not found naturally on Earth. The temperature was rather colder than that of the ship's communal areas, but there was no wind. To accentuate the chill. It occurred to McCoy that if they were visiting under less dire circumstances, the place in which they found themselves could be considered quite beautiful.  
McCoy lifted the tricorder, and was relieved to find that all Jim had to deal with was a concussion and a long but shallow cut running from above his left eye to just above his jaw. Nothing wonderful, but also nothing serious. 

‘Doctor?’ Spock’s question was not voiced aloud, but McCoy knew what he meant.

‘He’ll be fine. Nothing too bad. Just a concussion and that cut.’

Spock nodded, clearly relieved. He stepped back to afford McCoy more space in which to treat the captain. McCoy administered a painkiller and disinfected addressed the cut. He then administered a mild stimulant. The stimulant did its work almost instantly. Kirk sat bolt upright, a movement he regretted, as the pounding in his head intensified. He looked around at the wrecked shuttle, and at the long strip of exposed earth behind them, and quickly inferred what had happened.

‘We crashed.’

‘Incredible. Did you figure that out all by yourself?’ McCoy’s sarcastic response did not affect Kirk, who was used to the doctor’s barbs. 

‘Are you alright?’

‘I’m fine, you’re fine Spock’s…’ 

McCoy, wondering why Spock hadn’t chimed in with his opinion, turned his head in the Vulcan’s direction, an insult on the tip of his tongue. Spock was leaning against the side of the shuttle, eyes squeezed shut, with his customary Vulcan mask tightly in place. Too tightly.  
McCoy had been so focused on treating Jim that he hadn’t considered how severely Spock might be injured. He scrambled to his feet and waved the scanner in front of Spock. Outwardly, Spock gave hardly any sign that anything was amiss, but the tricorder told a different story.

‘Good God, Spock.’

\----------------

Every once in a while, Hikaru considered leaving Starfleet. It was true that he loved most aspects of the work, and the friends he had made while working aboard the Enterprise were the closest he had ever had. But when something went wrong, and lives were in danger, he thought it would be easier to apply for a research position at Yorktown or even on Earth. He would like to be able to see Demora grow up. It was her birthday in a week. He would be able to talk to her via the ship’s comms, but an image on a viewscreen was nothing when compared to hugging her.  
He knew exactly how the conversation would go. Demora would be ecstatic to see him and would regale him with rambling anecdotes of her school, and of books she had read, while Ben would hover in the background, smiling. After about twenty minutes, Ben would gently ask Demora to give them some time alone, and they would talk. Never about work though. Although it was not expressly forbidden, there was an unspoken agreement that they would not discuss Hikaru’s career. Instead, the conversation would drift toward their shared love of botany, or Demora’s learning. When the call ended, Hikaru would sit alone in his quarters, feeling guilty for missing out on Demora’s childhood, and for leaving Ben alone. It was in moments like these, where he effectively had the fate of four hundred and forty people resting in his hands, that he wished to be away from the stress of it all. The constant expectations. Making live-saving (or ending) decisions. There was just so much pressure. Sulu was snapped out of his reverie by the sound of the turbo-lift doors sliding open.

‘Mr. Scott. I assume you have been informed of our situation?’ 

‘Actually, I haven’t. What’s happened?’ responded Scotty.

‘We completely lost all contact and co-ordinates of the away teams shuttle seven minutes ago. The issue isn’t with the ship’s computer, and if it was with theirs, it happened extremely abruptly.’

Scotty paled a little at this news. Losing shuttle communication was serious enough, but without the location of the shuttle, there was no way to know where, within a thousand-kilometer possible landing radius, the shuttle and it’s crew were to be found. A cause for further concern, if the loss of coordinates was not already enough, was the abruptness of the signal loss. Even when taking into account the strange interference from the planet, the sudden, abrupt signal loss had been totally unanticipated.  
‘What did you want me for?’

‘I need you to try and modify the ship’s scanners to compensate for the signals jamming our sensors.’

‘Don’t you think that if that were possible, Starfleet would have implemented it fleet-wide?’ he countered.

‘I know. But I’m clutching at straws here. I’ve informed Starfleet Command of our situation, but since we’re so far away from the nearest starbase, it’s unlikely that we will receive their reply for at least two hours. Sitting around waiting for their reply would be a waste of precious time.’

Scotty nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. Don’t get your hopes up, though.”  
He left the bridge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that was chapter two. I think this is going to consist of lots of shorter chapters (<2000 words) instead of fewer, longer ones - mostly because I keep forgetting to write and I've been spending so much time doing other stuff.  
> I don't know the rules - can you draw illustrations for the stuff you write on here?
> 
> Also, I think I'm supposed to put a disclaimer  
> so -  
> I don't own any of these characters. Or any of the names. Or anything. If I did I'd be a lot richer and Star Trek 4 would be in post-production, on track to be released on my birthday.  
> There you go.  
> Please leave comments and feedback.  
> LLAP.


	3. Drones and disagreements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Let me not pray to be sheltered from dangers,  
> but to be fearless in facing them.  
> Let me not beg for the stilling of my pain, but  
> for the heart to conquer it.”
> 
> ― Rabindranath Tagore

Jim got to his feet, wincing as the pounding in his head intensified. He made his way over to Spock. 

‘What’s wrong?’

Staring at his tricorder, McCoy read off the screen.   
‘Four broken ribs, right ankle broken, contusions all over, and second-degree burns on the hand and wrist.’ He looked at Spock with a mixture of irritation and admiration at the Vulcan’s ability to control himself.  
‘Spock. You’re supposed to tell me about this sort of thing, not wait for me to whip out my tricorder.’

‘The captain was your immediate concern, Doctor. I did not wish to distract you.’

‘You’re a really bad patient.’ Muttering darkly to himself, McCoy looked through his medical bag.   
‘Jim, get the larger Medkit from the shuttle.’   
Jim moved off, shooting a concerned glance at Spock as he walked up the shuttle ramp and into the cockpit. McCoy administered a hypo with a painkiller and dressed the burns on Spock’s arm. He was just finishing as Kirk returned with the larger medkit.

‘I can’t fix your broken bones until we’re back on the Enterprise; you’ll have to make do with painkillers and splints until then. I’m going to use a brace for your ribs; if we’re going to be walking around I don’t want them moving. You’ll just have to put up with an increased risk of pneumonia, it’s better than punctured organs anyhow.’

Bones got out an ankle brace, a collapsible crutch, and a compression bandage, as Jim hovered anxiously in the background. He lifted Spock’s blue overshirt over his head and applied the compression bandage, talking all the time.

‘The bridge crew must be shitting bricks right now. How long will it take for them to reach Starfleet Command on a subspace channel?’

‘Two hours, forty-three minutes.’ Spock answered, shivering slightly in his Starfleet issue black undershirt.   
‘Put this back on.’ McCoy tossed Spock his uniform, moving on to his ankle. 

‘I’ll go see what’s salvageable in the shuttle,’ Jim said, and left. He wanted to give Spock some privacy, knowing how much he detested vulnerability.

The smoke was still clearing inside the cabin, but he could see what he was doing. Jim opened the side panel with the survival kit storage units behind it. Starfleet had implemented fleet-wide improvements on away mission emergency survival after the Altamid incident, even though a shuttle would not be used as an escape method if a ship was abandoned. 

He privately thought Starfleet Command was compensating for the massive loss of life by making all away missions as safe as they possibly could be, even if that impacted their efficiency and drew funding away from other research. He thought these changes were a good idea, but he had overheard a few of the new ensigns lamenting over the loss of funding. He had wanted to take it up with them, but he hadn’t ended up doing it. 

Kirk wondered if the new ensigns would have objected to the change if they had seen four-hundred and twenty-seven of their fellow crew people sucked into the freezing void of space. He’d seen it, and still often woke suddenly, the bed sheets drenched in sweat, almost a year later. Safer shuttles wouldn’t have made a difference above Altamid anyway.

His mind often fell into these patterns, analyzing over and over his actions that day. He knew, as a Starfleet captain, he couldn't afford to start second guessing himself, but he couldn't help it; writing a message to the families of every crew member he had lost was harrowing. 

Kirk shook his head, pushing away the memories. Not right now. He opened the kits, jumping back as the entire content of the cupboard fell out onto the floor, smoking. It looked like the side of the ship hit had been stripped away completely. Kirk closed his eyes momentarily.  
‘Are you shitting me?’

‘What is it?’ called McCoy from outside.

‘Most of the survival stuff is ruined.’ Kirk heard McCoy’s harsh expletive from inside the cabin. ‘What’s left?’

‘Two jackets, and the phasers and communicators are fine, but the water reclaimer is totaled and the portable replicators are toast.’ Kirk stepped out of the way of a thin stream of beige liquid trickling toward his boot.   
‘Looks like the food replicator cartridges were breached in the crash too.’  
He heaved open a plastic box with non-replicated food rations, sighing with relief when he saw that they were unharmed. After some more poking around, it became clear that not much else had survived the attack and crash. He stacked everything useful into another box - the phasers, a tricorder, the communicators, the food, and the water bladders that hadn’t been breached. Looking around the cabin for anything he might have missed, he noticed a smear of green on the side of the console. His eyes moving downwards, he observed, with a clench of his stomach, that Spock’s restraining harness was unbuckled, and the safety tag on the side of the clasp showed it had never been attached. Spock had been so focused on landing the shuttle safely that he hadn’t had the time to put it on. He must have been totally unrestrained when the shuttle crashed. It was a miracle he hadn’t been more seriously injured, let alone killed.   
Kirk tore his eyes away from the wrecked chairs and exposed wiring and dragged the box of supplies down the ramp. It looked like McCoy had just finished treating Spock - his broken ankle was in a brace, and his burned arm dressed. Off to one side, Bones was assembling an aluminum crutch for Spock to use. Kirk offered his hand to Spock, who accepted it after a moment's hesitation. Jim pulled Spock to his feet and handed him a jacket, as the cooler atmosphere was causing him to shiver. Spock took the jacket but did not put it on. His face was directed upwards, at the greenish-blue sky.  
‘Captain.’ Spock pointed at the sky. Far above them, four silver, oblong shapes flew slowly overhead.   
‘What the hell are they?’ muttered McCoy.  
‘Judging from their size and flight patterns, they are remotely operated surveillance drones. I would recommend we seek shelter in the shuttle.’

They hastily made their way back into the cabin, Spock limping only slightly, and Kirk heaved the doors closed.  
‘What was the point of us going in here?’ asked McCoy irritably. ‘The shuttle won’t mask our life signs, and the ripped up soil from our smooth landing won’t exactly help us blend in.’

‘Obviously, Doctor however since we were shot down by an unknown spacecraft, it would be logical to assume that something on this planet intends to do us harm, or otherwise is extremely wary of intruders, to the point where it will destroy any craft entering their atmosphere on detection. I am unable to ascertain at this time whether the drones we saw were equipped with weapons, but I thought it unwise to stay out in the open nonetheless.’   
McCoy rolled his eyes at Spock’s undisguised condescension, but didn’t say anything.   
Kirk looked around the ruined cabin. The little protection it offered would not hold for long in the event of an attack, and the shuttle must be hugely conspicuous from the air.   
‘We need to make a plan.’ Kirk said quietly. Spock nodded.  
‘We should stay with the shuttle,’ Bones said. ‘Moving around outside makes us a target.’  
‘So does remaining here, Doctor.’  
‘And what are you suggesting? That we just waltz out there and wander around, hoping that the crew figures out a way to contact us, all the while being hunted by some unknown, uncontacted species which advanced surveillance systems?’ retorted McCoy angrily.   
‘Bones, calm down.’ Kirk quickly interjected, seeing Spock opening his mouth to form a scathing retort. ‘I agree with Spock. We’re sitting ducks here, and we have no idea who the inhabitants of this planet are, or if they’re looking for us. If they are, they will definitely find us if we stay here. They’re probably already on their way. If we leave, and wander around, we’ll have no idea where we’re going, but we will be able to get away from here.’

‘We know nothing about this planet,’ said Bones. ‘We don’t know if the plants here are toxic to us, or if there are dangerous animals. Our sensors didn’t detect any life, but there is life, by the looks of it warp-capable life, and it tried to kill us. I would think those are pretty airtight incentives to stay here, where we have shelter, and at least some protection from whatever in all-hell is out there.’ He gestured at the shuttle doors.   
‘And anyway, Spock can’t walk.’

Spock raised an eyebrow. ‘I am perfectly capable of traveling, doctor.’

‘Sorry, Spock, I didn’t realize you were the medical officer,’ McCoy’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. ‘You’re not walking anywhere.’

‘He’s right, Spock.’ Kirk said, looking at the blotchy, green bruise forming over Spock’s eyebrow.

‘Captain, I can easily walk with the assistance of a crutch. The longer we remain here, the less time we have to flee.’

‘Do we even know if the inhabitants of this planet mean us harm?’ asked McCoy, now almost arguing for argument’s sake. ‘They have highly advanced technology, since they were able to confuse our scanners and disable our shields. They could have killed us if they were worried about their planet’s security, but they didn’t.’  
‘I can think of twelve different scenarios in which they would not destroy our shuttle. I would not recommend taking their apparent apathy to our survival as a token of good will.’ 

Kirk nodded in agreement. ‘Ok. Bones, we need to leave the shuttle. We are in a really delicate diplomatic situation right now. If we can get back to the Enterprise, we can establish first contact in a more ..ah... official way.’

‘When did that become your M.O.?’ asked McCoy with a grin.

‘After Altamid.’ (1)

McCoy’s smile fell from his face. Kirk changed the subject.   
‘Spock, are you sure you can travel?’

‘Affirmative, Captain.’

McCoy didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t say anything.   
Kirk got up and approached the doors, opening them a crack. He poked his head out the door.   
‘I can’t see the drones. We should leave as soon as possible.’

They quickly packed what little was usable into two large rucksack bags: the water, the dehydrated food, the phasers, communicators, and tricorders. They split all the supplies evenly between bags - if they were separated, they didn’t want all the food or water to be with one person. Once they were outside, McCoy finished putting the crutch and handed it to Spock. Spock made to pick up one of the duffle bags, but Kirk stopped him with an arm.  
‘What do you think you’re doing?’

‘We should distribute the weight evenly between us, taking turns carrying the supplies.’  
Behind him, McCoy shook his head in mock disbelief.   
‘You’re not carrying anything.’   
‘Captain, my injuries do not impede my ability to-’  
‘Put a jacket on, Spock.’  
‘Captain -’  
‘Just put on the damn jacket.’   
Spock acquiesced, pulling the jacket on and zipping it up to the chin. (2) Kirk heaved one of the packs onto his back, Bones doing the same. Kirk clocked Spock’s look of discomfort at being unable to help.   
‘It’s fine, Spock. Really.’  
‘Which way should we go?’ interrupted McCoy, adjusting the straps on his pack.

‘If we reach higher ground we will be able to see the extent of the colonization of this planet and have a better chance of being able to contact the Enterprise.’ Spock replied, pointing at a craggy hill in the distance. ‘It is covered in dense flora, so we will not be visible from the air, although there is no way to mask our thermal signatures.’

‘Sounds good.’ Kirk started forwards. ‘I’ll go first, Spock, you go behind me and Bones can bring up the rear.’

The stranded officers moved off into the forest, and away from the shuttle. The dense trees quickly masked the shuttle from their view.

Thirty-seven kilometers away, four shiny, silver surveillance drones returned to their dock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) - I think the AOS Enterprise is a fair bit bigger than the TOS enterprise, which had a crew complement of 430. Let's say the AOS Enterprise had a complement of 600. Considering how quickly Scotty was able to beam the survivors of the bee attack aboard the Franklin in groups of twenty, I would generously estimate that about 170 crew members escaped. Probably less. I think it's fair to say that this would have had a huge impact on Kirk's attitude to first contact missions and basically any situation where his crew was in danger, even more so than is demonstrated in ST:ID. 
> 
> (2) - ok so, Gene Rodenberry apparently had no problem with anything they did on TOS EXCEPT that he insisted that they wouldn't have zippers in the 23rd-century because he thought that humans would have evolved past them and have better ways of fastening their clothes, but I think the writers couldn't think of any better way to fasten the uniforms, so there are zippers on all the uniforms, but in the shows Roddenberry was closely associated with, the zips on the uniforms are for the most part concealed in seams.   
> I have now started to drop possibly well-known Trek facts. 
> 
> I'm having a bit of trouble with the characterization of AOS Kirk. I think he's too much like TOS Kirk, who is a totally different character. Tips would be appreciated.  
> LLAP!  
> p.s. - I'm so proud of the rhyme in the chapter title.


	4. Possible Solutions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'll finish this eventually.

Scotty ran as quickly as the crowding in the corridors permitted. Shoving crew people out of the way with hurried apologies, he almost flung himself into a turbolift.   
‘Bridge, priority 1,’ he panted. Outside the walls of the lift, all other turbolifts slowed or stopped on their rails to give way to Scotty. The lift was at the bridge within thirty seconds, so Scotty had hardly caught his breath when the doors slid open with the familiar hiss.   
‘Laddie,’ he said, beckoning to Sulu, ‘you’ll want to see this.’

Scotty pulled up the relevant file.  
‘Here are the scans of the planet’s surface an hour ago. We’ve been recording everything that we can.’ with a flick of the wrist, he changed the screen.  
‘Now look at this. This is a scan of the planet two minutes ago. I set the computer to map any changes to the planet's atmosphere and weather patterns, so I could recalibrate the sensors, but look!’

He pointed excitedly at the slowly rotating holo.  
‘I don’t see any change.’

‘That’s it! No change. At all. Zero. You’d expect at least some atmospheric changes relating to normal weather patterns, but there's nothing. It’s like someone took a holo of the planet and stuck it on like a mask.’  
‘0718, can you confirm this?’   
‘Sensors show absolutely no change in the planet’s gravitational or atmospheric fields.’(1)  
Scotty nodded in agreement. ‘If I’m working it correctly, an’ I think I am, these changes are way out of whack with the projected readings for a planet with similar geological composition and atmospheric density.’  
‘What are you saying, Mr. Scott?’  
‘I think the sensor data the computers are feeding us, and what we can see from the ship isn’t what’s actually going on. I cannae say for sure, but it looks to be some sort of elaborate projection.’  
‘That sort of technology is way ahead of current Federation capabilities.’  
‘It was able to fool our sensors completely. The computers are saying that there was no change at all when the Captain’s shuttle entered the lower atmosphere, and there should have been at least a small blip in the readings, but there wasn’t. Nothing.’

‘Mr. Scott, Lieutenant Uhura, the Captain’s ready room, please. Mr. Chekov, you have the con. Ensign,’ He said to a nearby crewmember; ‘Monitor these readings closely. Notify me if they change at all.’  
‘Aye sir!’  
Once they were seated away from the chirping and buzzing of the bridge, Sulu dropped the confident demeanor.  
‘Scotty, do you think you'll be able to fix the sensors?’  
‘I don’t know yet, laddie, but I wouldn’t hold out much hope.’  
Uhura broke in.   
‘Can we send another shuttle?’  
‘We could, but it’s really risky. What if we lost contact with it too? Double the problem.’

‘I suppose. Can we boost the sensor’s signal by deploying external satellites?’

Scotty shifted uncomfortably in his seat.  
‘The ship doesn’t have any. It’s not the dark ages, and anyway, sensor strength isn't the problem.’ Scotty said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

‘Then what the hell is the problem?’ Uhura raised her voice, a rare occurrence. Scotty told her what he had already told Sulu. 

‘An’ so, even if we had the most powerful sensors in existence, we wouldn’t be able to see what’s going on.’ He concluded apologetically.

‘Isn’t it odd that whoever inhabits this planet put so much effort into creating such an elaborate deception, and has more advanced tech than ours, but missed something so obvious as weather patterns?’ 

‘Aye, that is odd.’ 

‘So what do we do now?’ asked Uhura, sitting up a little straighter. 

‘Starfleet’s response via subspace relay can’t possibly get here for another half-hour, and that’s only if they give it top priority, which is far from certain. It would take a ship almost two months at maximum warp to get to our position.’ Sulu replied.  
‘Well we’re not just going to sit around and wait for them to tell us what to do, are we?’ said Uhura angrily. 

‘Of course not. But we can’t send another shuttle, it’s too dangerous. We can’t contact the planet - there are no receivers on the planet that we can see. We might be able to-’  
Sulu’s comm chirped. He answered it.

‘Captain, the atmospheric readings of the planet just changed,’ came the voice of the ensign Sulu had assigned to monitor the computers. Sulu, Uhura, and Scotty jumped to their feet and ran back onto the bridge. The change to the planet would not be visible if it was not highlighted in red. The cloud patterns had moved all over the planet, and a small patch of land was outlined, an alert hovering above it. Uhura spread her fingers to see it closer up. A small, blurry trail of dark grey smoke was just visible. When she realized what it was, she gasped.  
‘That’s a fuel-burn trail.’ (2)

‘If that’s from the shuttle, then they're nearby.’ said Sulu in relief.

‘Ah.. sir,’ said Scotty, ‘that sort of trail is only left by a vehicle with leaking fuel, and it looks like there was a lot of it. The shuttle was in bad shape. I don’t think they would have made it very far.’  
The whole bridge was listening to this exchange, hanging on every word.   
‘0718, modify search parameters to comply with this new data.’ Sulu had no idea what he was supposed to do here, but it seemed the logical action.

‘Aye captain.’ 0718’s augmented eyes scanned the data as his fingers tapped at his console rapidly. ‘Search parameters modified.’

This small victory did not do much to ease the crew’s worries.  
‘What the hell happened to the shuttle?’ said Sulu, squinting at the holo.  
‘There was nothing wrong with the shuttle that could have caused such catastrophic failure when it left the Enterprise.’ Scotty said with certainty.  
Uhura was staring at the smudge of grey on the vast expanse of greenish-blue set out in front of her.   
‘They were attacked.’  
No one spoke. They all knew this was the only reasonable explanation. The Enterprise’s computer would have picked up any problem with the shuttle immediately. Sulu broke the silence. ‘Lieutenant Uhura, open a ship-wide channel.’  
‘Aye sir.’ Uhura stepped over to her station.  
‘Channel open, sir.’  
Sulu took a breath, walked over to the captain's chair, and sat down. 

‘At 0800 hours ship-time, Captain Kirk, Commander Spock, and Chief Medical Officer McCoy took a shuttle to the surface of an unexplored, unnamed M-Class planet to investigate the source of a signal which was jamming our scanners. At 0812 hours, all contact with the shuttle was lost, along with the life signs of the crewmen aboard the shuttle.’ Sulu realized he sounded like he was making a report of Kirk, Spock, and McCoy’s deaths, and changed his tone.   
‘Since then, we have seen evidence to suggest that the data that our computers are being fed is inaccurate and that the view we have of the planet’s surface is part of an elaborate hologram or projection, consisting of technology far beyond the current reach of the Federation. We also have reason to believe that the shuttle crashed on the surface of the planet as a result of a hostile attack.  
‘This is a first-contact situation. The planet which we are currently orbiting is home or was home to a species which in all probability is warp-capable.   
‘Our mission parameters have changed. Our objective is now to retrieve the Captain, Commander Spock, and Doctor McCoy, and, if possible, act as the Federation’s emissaries to the inhabitants of this planet.’  
Having nothing left to say to the crew, Sulu moved to close the channel. ‘Sulu out.’

‘You should say ‘rescue, not ‘retrieve,” said Uhura quietly. ‘It makes it sound as if they’re dead.’

‘Noted.’ 

Nyota glanced at Spock’s station. His seat was temporarily filled by a science officer whose name she did not know. Whenever something like this happened, whenever the ship’s computer malfunctioned, whenever the replicators stopped working,(3) whenever something went wrong on a mission with a landing party she would feel a tight knot of anxiety at the pit of her stomach, even days after the danger had passed. A career in Starfleet always had its risks, and she had faced her share of them, but she had lost too many people and seen too much death first hand to be ignorant of the inherent fragility of life. She loved her work, and almost nothing would give her cause to resign her post, but she still worried. About her friends, about her crewmates, and about Spock.  
Spock tended to put his wellbeing below others. Soon after what the crew had colloquially christened ‘The Altamid Incident’, Spock had been confined to a Yorktown medical facility for nearly a month. He’d maintained that his ‘superior Vulcan biology’ would assist him in making a full recovery and that the hastily applied protoplaser job would be all the medical attention he would require. McCoy had called bull at this, and he had been right. Uhura smiled, with a mixture of fondness and exasperation at the memory of McCoy and Spock’s heated argument on the topic, which had involved a lot of swearing on McCoy’s part and a lot of raised eyebrows and sarcastic responses on Spock’s.   
A chirp from her station brought Uhura back to the present.   
‘It’s Starfleet Command’s response.’ She picked up her earpiece and fitted it into her ear. As she listened to the audio transmission, her stomach dropped.  
‘They want us to leave, and rendezvous with Starfleet command at starbase 490 to await further instructions.’

‘What?’ Sulu said furiously. His expression of confusion and indignation was mirrored all around the bridge. He took a deep breath.   
‘We can’t leave them down there, Captain!’ said Scotty. Sulu nodded slowly. He came to a decision.  
‘Uhura, notify Starfleet Command of the changes in our situation. Tell them about the ah… subspace communication issues we’ve been having.’  
Cottoning on immediately, Uhura typed up the transmission. She sent it to the chair, where Sulu read it with an approving nod.  
‘Perfect! Send it on a low-priority channel and use channel encryption.’  
‘Aye sir. Transmission sent.’  
At the navigation console, Chekov looked very confused. ‘Captain, subspace communications are functioning at full efficiency, and full priority channels are open.’

‘Starfleet wants us to leave the captain, Mr. Spock and McCoy on this planet, Mr. Chekov. I am going to respectfully disagree with that decision. As we are in deep space, it would take us two weeks at maximum safe warp to get to Starbase 490, during which time the supplies in the shuttle will run out. Then we still have to return, which will take another two weeks. Starfleet may be unaware of the urgency of this situation, in any case, the circumstances require that the ship remain here. The consequences of my actions here will be mine alone. If Starfleet questions your motives, I will deny that you had anything to do with it, and your careers will be unaffected. This crew,’ said Sulu, gesturing around the bridge, ‘is a family. We will not leave anyone behind until we have no other choice. We have a choice now.’  
‘Well said, laddie.’ Scotty smiled.   
‘With all due respect, Captain,’ said Chekov quietly, ‘I don’t think anyone aboard this ship wants to leave.’  
Uhura nodded fervently.  
‘We need to find a way to see what’s going on on the planet.’ said Scotty in a businesslike tone, making it clear that there was nothing more to be said on the matter.   
‘I think I know why the readings updated.’ Uhura said suddenly. Everyone turned to look at her.  
‘If anyone was monitoring the planet at a distance, say anything more than 2 light-years, the time delay would mean that the disparity in the readings would just look like normal signal fluctuation consistent with any large planet’s gravitational field.’(5)

‘Like a bad refresh rate. Aye, that could be it,’ said Scotty. ‘You wouldn’t be able to tell that the readings were unusual, because at a distance, the sensor readings only update every hour or so.’

‘That doesn’t answer the question as to why go to all that trouble for an obvious blind?’ said Sulu.   
Scotty answered him. ‘Taking accurate readings of a planet, accurate enough to fool a starship’s sensors would use up a lot of energy. Why bother making it more realistic when a change every hour is enough to fool any Federation ship that’s more than 2 light-years away?’

‘Good point.’

‘We still don’t know who they are,’ Uhura interrupted. ‘Are they a species known to the Federation, or are they uncontacted?’

‘There’s no way to tell. But since they put so much effort into   
shielding their planet from starship sensors, I think they’re probably warp-capable, and if they’re not, then they at least know about warp-tech in other species.’ Sulu reasoned.

‘We can contact them, then.’ Scotty interjected.

‘We still need Starfleet’s official permission to contact the planet’s inhabitants, and since they fired on our shuttle, it’s doubtful whether they’ll be particularly happy with our intrusion.’ Sulu said. ‘I know that might seem a little hypocritical when considering what I just broadcast all over the ship, but we can’t risk anyone else on this crew.’

Uhura was becoming increasingly frustrated. ‘As I see it, our situation is this. The Captain, Spock, and McCoy are stranded on the planet. We can’t get down to the planet, because it’s too dangerous and we can’t see anything going on from the ship. The inhabitants of the planet aren’t answering hails, and whatever signals are being broadcast that are blocking our sensors will block all comms anyway. If we’re going to disobey Starfleet Command’s direct orders and remain here, we need to have something to show for it. I’d like that to be the Captain, the doctor, and Spock.’  
‘We still don’t know anything about how the signals and the holograms are being broadcast.’ Sulu said, running his fingers through his hair. He could feel a headache coming on.

‘Wait.’ Scotty smiled. ‘Jaylah!’

‘What about her?’ Uhura asked, then her eyes widened. ‘Oh!’

‘She’s smart as a whip, but she’s an absolute genius when it comes to holograms an’ security systems. That’s why she was fast-tracked at the Academy.’ Scotty recalled the brilliant way in which Jaylah had disguised the Franklin on Altamid. ‘She knows more about this sort of thing than anyone else on this ship.’ 

Sulu nodded. ‘Computer, locate Ensign Jaylah.’  
‘Ensign Jaylah is in Engineering.’ said the cool voice of the computer.  
Sulu opened a channel to Engineering. ‘Ensign, Jaylah, report to the bridge.’ He closed the channel. ‘Do you really think she’ll be able to disable an entire planet’s defensive systems?’

Scotty grinned. ‘She was one of the brightest cadets in her year, and this is her special area.’

A few minutes later, the turbolift doors opened to admit Jaylah to the bridge.  
‘Jaylah, can you come look at this?’ Uhura beckoned her over.  
Scotty filler her in on what they had already surmised from the data.  
‘This is a composite holo of the planet?’ asked Jaylah, her fingers outstretched, slowly rotating the holo. On the other side of the projection, Uhura nodded. ‘We think that it’s a projection, combined with a clever signal broadcast pattern which makes our computers think it’s actually there. We need to figure out how to disable it, preferably temporarily.’

Jaylah nodded. ‘Show me the readings from every 10 minutes for one hour.’ the computer complied, and the holo shifted to show seven smaller versions of the planet. Jaylah studied these for a moment, the black patterns on her face creasing slightly as she frowned. ‘It’s a satellite net.’

Scotty raised his eyebrows ‘How did you figure that out, lassie?’  
‘Here,’ said Jaylah, pointing at a spot on the first image of the planet, ‘and here.’ She pointed at another image on the second holo. ‘The projection has moved with the orbit of the planet, but there are tiny little blips in the consistency of the readings all over that don’t change at all.’   
She highlighted the blips, and drew a web around them.   
‘How come we didn’t see that when we looked?’ said Scotty, surprised.

‘Because you were not looking.’ said Jaylah, her eyes still focused on the holo. ‘My house was hidden in the same way on Altamid. You couldn't spot it from a distance, or even close up, but where the projectors were, there were always spots that didn’t look quite the same as the rest of the ship. There was nothing I could do about it, and they only betrayed my hiding spot if someone was looking for them.’ Jaylah finished highlighting the blips on the holo, then pinched her fingers to enlarge the holo. The planet was now strung with a beautifully intricate lattice.  
‘What was that, four minutes?’ said Scotty proudly. Jaylah smiled. 

Uhura was caught off guard at how quickly Jaylah had been able to figure out what was going on, but she supposed she should have expected nothing less. She’d only joined the Enterprise a few months earlier, at Kirk’s specific request, having graduated Starfleet Academy in less than a year, which was virtually unheard of. She’d pretty much re-designed the food replicators to make them twenty percent more efficient and fixed a problem Scotty had been having for months with the warp-core cooling, all within a week of coming aboard.

‘How do we disable the net?’ Sulu asked, staring at the holo and the web of golden thread surrounding it.  
‘That will be harder,’ Jayah said, still focused on the holo. ‘I will need some time.’  
‘You have it.’ Sulu clapped her on the shoulder. ‘Good job.’  
‘Thank you. I will need time with the supercomputer and in the engineering labs.’  
Sulu nodded. ‘I’ll make it happen. Mr. Scott, can you go with her please?’  
‘Aye sir.’  
When they had left, Sulu and Uhura sat back down at their stations.   
Nyota sat with her head in her hands momentarily before straightening up and turning back to her console.  
‘How are you doing, Nyota?’ he asked, concerned.

‘Fine, thanks. Just… worried.’ she responded, rubbing her eyes.  
‘Yeah. Me too.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) 0718 is the weird android/cybernetically enhanced humanoid seen on the bridge in ST:ID. He’s not in Beyond, but I thought he was cool so I’ve included him here. Maybe he was on long service leave or something.
> 
> (2) I don’t know what it’s called. You know the weird dark smoke that comes out of a damaged engine? I don’t know the technical term. 
> 
> (3) I will NOT use the Tarsus IV trope. Just NO. Never. (Ok maybe at some point, but not here. This is AOS, and there’s no evidence to suggest that Kirk even went to the Tarsus colony in the Kelvin timeline. And even if he did, this plot device is SO OVERUSED it’s become almost painful to read.) 
> 
> (4) Ok, so I know about STID, but I’m going to just slide past that here. And anyway, I've always maintained that Spock would have definitely gone a’ warp-core climbing if he’d had the opportunity. In TWOK, Spock is able to quietly leave the bridge, but in ID, he’s in the chair, and can’t really leave given the whole ‘ship’s in mortal peril’ thing. I’m aware that this isn’t at all relevant to what I’m writing here, but Star Trek is a banned topic in my house because I talk about it too much, so I'm reduced to writing fan-fiction and posting it on the internet and making b-grade fanart and posting it on Instagram for all of my 22 followers to see.
> 
> (5) So proud of this passage of absolute bullshit pseudoscience.


	5. Separation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Captain Kirk is climbing a mountain. Why is he climbing a mountain?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been way too long. Sorry to anyone who is keeping updated with this story. According to my admittedly unreliable memory, it's been nearly eleven weeks :/  
> Also the Shatner of the mount lyric isn't mine, but the opportunity to use it as a chapter summary was too good to miss. that song is the best thing to come out of the train wreck that was Star Trek V.

After walking through the densely packed forest for a little over an hour, Kirk had begun to think that they were in much the same position they had been before leaving the shuttle.  
The tall, densely packed trees prevented them from seeing anything more than about six meters in any direction. After less than half an hour, the trees had started to look the same, and he would find himself wondering, with an awful sense of deja vu, whether that log or stone was the same one he had walked past 10 minutes before. Along with this growing sense that they were walking in circles, he was forced to admit to himself that his own self-doubt was increasing. Although the tricorder readings showed that they were still headed almost directly towards the huge hill, so they weren’t exactly lost, he still was preoccupied with the thought that they really had no idea what they were doing. When they got to the top of the mountain, they might be no better off than they were before leaving the Galileo. Sure, they might be able to contact the Enterprise, and so ensure his crew’s safety, and they’d be able to see how badly they had interfered already depending on the extent of the terraformation of the land nearby, but on the other hand, reaching higher ground probably wouldn’t really make a difference to communications - their communicators were powerful enough that if there was a signal to be found, odds were that they would have found it. Then what? They could find a shelter, and watch their small supply of food and water quickly dwindle and run dry, or worse - be quickly captured by the inhabitants of this planet. He was also acutely aware that should they be captured anything that might happen to Spock and Bones would be his fault. He was the one who had instigated this mission, and in some ways, it was his fault that they were in this situation. Sometimes even he was astounded at his own stupidity. 

Kirk generously estimated that they had travelled about three kilometres in the last hour. He would have liked to have made quicker progress, but their pace was, of course, set by Spock, who, despite obvious and valiant efforts to avoid showing any sign of physical weakness, was still limping in a halting, jerky manner, leaning heavily on his crutch. Spock’s face was carefully neutral, but the sight of his heavy limping and the slight shaking of his hands, and the grey tinge of his cheeks was enough to betray his actual condition to his Captain and his doctor.  
Bones had taken to raising his tricorder every five minutes, scowling at the results, and stowing it again. He had continued to do this with an increasing and ever-apparent mixture of concern for Spock and irritation at Spock’s stoicism until Spock himself had pointed out rather forcefully, that this practice was contributing more to his overall discomfort than his injuries were, and that it achieved nothing. At this, Bones had shoved his tricorder back into his pack with a scowl, but he still kept a very close eye on Spock.

Kirk was concerned about Spock as well. The Vulcan would not easily divulge whether he was in pain, but with or without his vocal confirmation of the fact, it was clearly apparent that Spock was struggling to maintain his composure. This had escaped neither Kirk nor McCoy’s notice, so when McCoy subtly signalled for Kirk to fall behind, he was not surprised.   
‘What is it?’ Kirk asked. ‘Is he OK?’

‘He’ll be fine once we get him back to the Enterprise. A few hours with the osteo-regenerator and two days rest. That’s not to say that he should be running around this god-forsaken planet with broken bones and a hero complex.’

Jim glanced up at Spock, who was about twenty metres ahead of them. He was sure that Spock was fully aware that they were discussing him.   
Kirk jogged up to Spock and tapped him on the shoulder. Spock started, turning around quickly. 

‘Hey, it’s just me. Bones says we need to take a break.’ Jim said reassuringly, trying to hide his concern.

‘We have only travelled two point-eight kilometres in the last hour, Captain. The length of one day on this planet is less than eight hours, and I estimate that we have less than an hour of daylight left. To stop now would be-’

‘If you say illogical, I’ll rip your pointed ears off.’ McCoy interrupted, having caught up to them. ‘You need to rest, Spock.’

‘We will be forced to stop for the night in less than two hours, Doctor. We should make as much progress as we can while it is still light.’

Jim considered this, weighing Spock’s advice. Taking another look at Spock’s pinched, pale face, he dismissed it.   
‘Sit down, Spock,’ he said, halting and gesturing to a large, orange-tinged boulder close by. It was a testament to Spock’s true condition, Jim thought, that Spock did not put up more of an argument, but resignedly placed his crutch to one side and slowly lowered himself onto the boulder, his splinted leg stretched out in front of him and his uninjured hand wrapped protectively around his ribs. Bones rummaged in his medkit and drew out a hypo and fitted an ampoule to the end of it. Spock eyed it warily. 

‘Relax, Spock. It’s just a painkiller.’

‘No thank you, Doctor.’

‘I knew you’d say that.’ McCoy pressed the hypo to Spock’s neck anyway, ignoring Spock’s almost comic look of annoyance. 

Without warning, silence descended upon the landing party with startling abruptness, leaving the three friends sitting, with averted gazes, waiting for someone to break the silence.

Jim Kirk knew his crew better than most ‘fleet captains, and he was especially familiar with his senior officers and Alpha shift crew. He knew that when McCoy was faced with a particularly challenging problem he would lash out at whoever happened to be nearby, generally Spock, then settle down to the task at hand, in this case, making sure none of them got themselves killed, cursing under his breath.  
Uhura would stay absolutely calm, and direct all her emotion at the problem, working with quiet compassion and intelligence, a valuable characteristic in a communications officer.   
Sulu and Chekov worked seamlessly together, and sometimes it would seem like the two were communicating telepathically.   
Scotty, though he usually put on a facade of comic apathy, was a genius when it came to solving problems in Engineering.  
Jim knew exactly when his officers were scared, or angry, or uncomfortable. (Except perhaps for Spock, whose carefully sculpted Vulcan mask was sometimes even more than Kirk could fathom, though he usually had a pretty good idea.) Kirk also knew Spock’s behavioural patterns when faced with a dilemma - whether it was an away mission gone wrong or a particularly murderous mathematical problem, his solution was usually ruthless logic which someone not familiar with Vulcans could mistake for sociopathy, then almost scary efficiency and detached reasoning directed at solving the problem at hand.

It was this extraordinary familiarity with his crew’s personalities that allowed Kirk to immediately assess his companions’ morale in a crisis, but at that moment, he had no idea what was going through their heads. Bones sat quietly, fiddling with the strap on his medkit, and Spock was staring determinedly at his tricorder screen. Unable to stand the suffocating silence any longer, Kirk coughed loudly, then began to speak.   
‘Bones, how long until we can keep moving?’  
Spock answered first.  
‘I am able to continue now, Jim.’  
McCoy tilted his head back in exasperation.   
‘I hate both of you. At least fifteen minutes, Jim.’   
Kirk nodded and sat down.   
They spent fifteen minutes avoiding each other’s gaze, after which they wordlessly rose, and continued on their journey.

———————————

They kept walking for an interminable amount of time. The progression of the strange, bluish sun seemed to slow, floating on the tip of the treetops, casting everything into a delicate turquoise light. The flickering sunset shadows cast by the trees made everything look as if they were underwater, even as the first pinpricks of stars became visible in the sky.  
It occurred to Kirk that it was eerily silent as they tracked slowly forwards. The only noises were the crunching of the soft ground beneath their feet, their breathing and the rustle of the dense vegetation as they pushed it aside so that they could move forwards. The silence was both reassuring, and creepy, Kirk thought. On the one hand, if anyone or anything was to sneak up on them, they’d certainly be aware of it, if not prepared. On the other, the stifling blanket of stillness which permeated their air gave the irresistible impression that they were being watched. Kirk found himself looking over his shoulder, past Spock and Bones every two minutes or so, looking for a movement, a flash of sunlight reflecting off a phaser that he desperately hoped would not be there.

Spock suddenly halted, and Bones almost walked into him.   
‘Captain,’ Spock called out. Kirk turned.  
‘What’s up?’  
Spock ignored the illogical colloquialism and pointed at the towering cliff face looming to their right, invisible at eye level.  
‘My tricorder readings indicate that this cliff extends along the side of the valley in which we are currently situated for some four kilometres. If we continue in our current direction, we will be unable to leave the valley without climbing the cliff.   
‘Can we turn around and go around the base of the mountain to see if we can climb it another way?’  
‘Affirmative, Captain, however, we will be unable to do so in daylight. We have less than ten minutes before the light level is less than necessary to facilitate human vision.’

Kirk weighed their options for a moment, then made up his mind.   
‘It’s too late to turn around. Spock, do you think you can make it up that cliff?’  
As he said it, he realized the question was redundant. Spock would answer in the affirmative, even if he was only just able to stand. As Kirk had expected, Spock nodded firmly, ignoring McCoy’s eye roll.  
——

Spock eyed the cliff apprehensively, acutely aware of the protesting of his ribs and ankle. He could see many footholds and surmised that the climb would not be technically difficult, but as he again took stock of his own injuries, he was forced to admit that he was not in full possession of his physical faculties. Silently, he set his mind to the task of restraining the pain.   
I am a Vulcan. There is no pain.   
Doctor McCoy had already begun to climb, muttering barely concealed profanities under his breath. Spock glanced back at his captain, who gave a resigned grin and gestured for him to start climbing. Spock stepped closer and reached for a handhold, pulling himself up onto the wall. Almost subconsciously, he searched for places to pull himself further up the cliff, pushing aside the protestation of his ankle and wrist. Below him, he heard Jim’s breathing and the scuffing of his boots on the stone. 

——  
The climb continued for what seemed like hours, but what his internal time sense told him had only been twenty-two minutes. To his slight unrest, he was now unable to control the shaking in his leg or arm, nor to conceal the grimaces of pain caused by the continual stress on his injuries. Glancing up, he felt a momentary rush of vertigo as he saw that he was nearly seven metres from the top of the cliff. He pushed aside his exhaustion and continued. Doctor McCoy had already reached the top of the cliff and was peering concernedly over the side of the cliff. 

“You doing alright, Spock?” came Jim’s voice from beneath him.

“I am functioning adequately, Captain.” Spock knew this to not be entirely accurate, but his reticence on the subject was at least not causing any direct inefficiency to their mission. He was concerned, however, that if his condition continued to progress, he would become an unsupportable burden on his friends.   
Spock felt for a handhold above him and pulled himself up, suppressing a groan as his broken ribs stretched painfully. 

Suddenly, his ankle gave way beneath him, slipping away from the rocks, sending pebbles skittering down the cliff face, and leaving him hanging perilously by one hand. He heard Jim’s shout of alarm and saw Doctor McCoy’s outstretched hands, more than a metre out of his reach. The tricorder which he had slung over one shoulder swung into the cliff, and the loud crack of the casing connecting with the rock echoed through the valley.   
Spock focused on his breathing and concentrated his mind on swinging his free hand back up to catch a grip on the cliff face. He managed to grab onto a protruding tree root, then carefully searched for a foothold, being sure not to dislodge any rocks which might fall and hit Jim. Finding one, he released a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. He heard Jim’s exaggerated sigh of relief as Spock grabbed Doctor McCoy’s hand and allowed him to pull him over the ledge of the cliff. For a moment, Spock lay in the coarse, reddish gravel, attempting to catch his breath and control the screaming of his ribs and ankle. He heard the Doctor’s muttered swearing as he fumbled with his medkit and the pounding of the blood in his ears. Finally, he pushed himself to his knees and then feet. Spock felt a sting in the side of his neck and heard the soft hiss of a hypo. Spock raised his eyebrow.

“Doctor, that was quite unnecessary.”

“I think I'll be the judge of that, Spock.” Turning to yell over the cliff, he addressed the captain. “Once our captain deigns to join us,” he said loudly, not unkind sarcasm dripping from his voice, “he could consider how he is going to frame his case as to why I shouldn’t leave Starfleet and retire early, living out the rest of my days on actual solid ground and breathe air that hasn’t been recycled four-hundred times!”   
A quiet snort of amusement was the response. 

Spock untwisted the strap of his tricorder and turned it on. To his (relief, it had not been badly damaged, and the sole signs of its abuse was a split in the casing and a small crack in the upper right-hand corner of the screen. As he scanned the readings again, he frowned slightly. Something was not adding up. He shut his eyes for a moment, in an attempt to clear his thoughts, then as the realization hit him, his eyes flew open and he scrambled to his feet.   
“We must hide, quickly. There is a small craft on the other side of this hill heading towards us at a rate of one-hundred-and-two kilometres per-hour.”  
McCoy turned to look at him, alarm written on his face. “Shit!” He stuffed his tricorder away and reached over to haul Jim up. Jim ignored his hand and quickly pulled himself over the ledge, then stood up. They stood there, panting, for less than a second before they started running as fast as they could under the circumstances. Spock inwardly cursed his leg as it immediately gave out beneath him, sending him to the ground, but Jim was at his side in an instant, hauling him to his feet and pulling one of Spock’s arms over his shoulder.  
They stumbled upwards, along the edge of the cliff which wrapped around the hill, slipping on the uneven ground.  
Spock wished that the terrain which they were now traversing was as densely overgrown with plant life, for it would have been much easier to hide, but the ground was now strewn with huge boulders, with the only sign of greenery being spiky-looking shrubs which barely reached to his ankles. Spock tried to limp as fast as he could, but his ankle jarred repeatedly against the unyielding ground, the pain causing streaks of black to flash across his field of vision.   
Just ahead of them, Doctor McCoy turned and beckoned, pointing to a crevice between two towering boulders. Spock was dimly aware of being set down against a cool, rough surface, then the sounds of a hushed but heated argument. His mind was too clouded with pain to rationalize the meaning of the words, which slid through his mind like oil in water. A whirring sound filled his ears, which seemed to become louder and louder until it overwhelmed his senses and sent him into a spiral of unconsciousness. 

\-----

Spock awoke to a hypospray pressed against his neck, and McCoy’s hand clamped over his mouth. Spock immediately understood the implied necessity of silence and nodded. McCoy removed his hand, and they sat in the crevice, not moving, and hardly breathing. As Spock’s mind cleared, a wave of anxiety crashed over him as he realised who was missing.   
“Where is Jim?” he mouthed.  
McCoy only pursed his lips and shook his head, his finger over his lips.  
The whirring sound returned, growing louder, and Spock realized that it had not been a product of his pain-addled mind, but rather the menacing sound of an engine directly outside their hiding place. Above him, Spock saw a shiny silver craft halt directly above them. The craft was of an unusual design, quite unlike any Federation vessel. It was totally smooth, and was the shape of a sea-worn pebble, with an odd, grey colour which blended unusually well into the surrounding rocks. A small sphere which looked like a smaller version of the craft itself descended from the larger vehicle. Spock assumed that it was some kind of camera or sensor. The sphere hovered above them, then slowly, menacingly, approached them. The probe was only a metre or so from entering the crevice when Spock heard a familiar yell.   
‘OVER HERE, ARSEHOLES!’ 

Spock’s question as to what had happened to Jim was partly answered, and it was with a mixture of quickly subdued anger at his own ineptitude, and fear for Jim's safety that he realised that. he was trying to draw the craft away from them.

The sphere halted, then abruptly turned and sped off in the direction of Jim’s voice. The larger craft followed hastily, the sound of its engines receding. McCoy stood up, peered cautiously out of the crack, a phaser at the ready. Spock doubted if phaser-fire, even on the heaviest setting, would be able to make a dent in the hull of the craft. As quickly as his damaged leg would allow him, he joined McCoy at the entrance to the crevice to see where Jim had run to. To his dismay, Jim had not found a hiding place but was sprinting in the opposite direction to them, up the hill, obviously trying to lead the craft away from Spock and McCoy. Jim scrambled over huge boulders with ease, however, the shuttle and accompanying sphere were pursuing him with relentless speed and far greater efficiency. The smaller sphere fired a bright green bolt of light at Jim, which missed him by inches. Jim fired his phaser wildly over his shoulder at the smaller craft, the shot missing by more than a meter. Jim’s next shot, whether by pure luck or unnatural skill, Spock would never know, hit the small sphere on the side. Although the shot itself didn’t even scratch the shiny surface, the force of the blast forced it to one side, whereupon it smashed into a large boulder with a satisfying crunch.   
Seconds later, Jim’s expression of satisfaction turned to one of shock and surprise, as the retaliatory shot from the large shuttle hit Jim directly between the shoulder blades. 

To Spock, it seemed that time slowed down. Logically, he knew that there were no such temporal anomalies which could cause the time to slow down enough to physically manifest itself to this extent, but it did seem like the following seconds progressed with agonising slowness.  
.   
Jim’s face froze, and he crumpled, his body dropping gracefully and silently off a boulder, down the heart-stoppingly long distance toward the ground. Calmly, as though the pilots had been expecting it, the craft zoomed over, and Jim’s limp body slowed, caught in some kind of tractor beam, before neatly dropping into an opening at the top of the craft. Spock stared in horror as the opening closed, and the craft serenely glided off as if nothing had happened, leaving Spock and McCoy to stare at each other in mute shock.


End file.
